


got you stuck in my head

by icarusinflight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dramatic Albus Severus Potter, HP Next Gen Fest 2019, Harry Potter Next Generation, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Movie Night, Partially Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-20 23:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21289907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: They've shared kisses. Three to be exact. They haven’t talked about it, and Albus isn’t sure what the kisses mean for the two of them.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 26
Kudos: 180
Collections: Next Gen Fest 2019





	got you stuck in my head

**Author's Note:**

> Thank youuuu to the mods for running this fest, and their eternal patience and kindness.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who listened to me ramble about this.

****Scorpius has fallen asleep again.

They’ve been sitting together on the sofa, and Scorpius’ head has been resting on Albus’ shoulder for the last hour, some of which Scorpius was definitely awake for. Albus can’t see Scorpius’ face from this angle. There’s nothing discernible that Albus can point to and say _ that, that is why I’m sure Scorpius is asleep. _

But he is.

Scorpius has fallen asleep again. 

Albus is fairly sure Scorpius has been in and out throughout the movie. It’s not a surprise really; it’s well past a reasonable hour, past _ staying up late_, and even _ staying up early, _ and moving into _ through ‘til the next day_. Albus thinks it’s starting to get lighter outside, the tell-tale hint of the rising sun shining through the windows, and if that’s the case then it won’t be long before the rest of the house starts to wake. Dad will make breakfast, and Mum will leave for work. James should have Quidditch training, and Lily—having nothing else to do—will undoubtedly trail after him and Scorpius. Dad’s probably going to be angry at them for staying up so late. Well not _ them _ , because he wouldn’t be angry at Scorpius—but he’s definitely going to be mad at Albus. He’d said they could stay up late on their own watching movies, but he probably didn’t mean stay up _ all night _ watching movies. They should have gone to sleep hours ago, at least after the last movie ended, but Albus had wanted to stay up later—had begged and pleaded to watch another and Scorpius had agreed, even if he’d already been yawning.

This was meant to be the time they got to share together, away from the rest of his family, just the two of them, like it usually is at school. People don’t tend to bother them for the most part. He’s not a saviour like his dad, and he’s not talented like James. He’s just Albus, and once people worked out that the only way he took after his dad was with his looks, they left him alone.

Everyone except for Scorpius.

His best mate.

His best mate that he can’t stop thinking about kissing.

They've shared kisses. Three to be exact. One after the Quidditch Final, one at the after-party, and one rushed kiss after their exams before the train home. Albus isn't sure that one counts to be honest, it was rushed, Scorpius’ lips not-quite-brushing just at the edge of Albus’ lips. Close enough to leave him wondering. Maybe none of them count. They haven’t talked about them, and Albus isn’t sure what the kisses mean for the two of them. 

He knows that it means something to him.

He's trying not to think about the―trying not to think about the first kiss, when Scorpius had barely dismounted his broom before he was running towards Albus, grabbing his cheeks and smashing their lips together in a rough approximation of a kiss. It was a kiss that said _ we won _and Scorpius was jumping around and Albus can't be sure what else it said but it left his heart thumping harder than watching Scorpius dive for the Snitch. 

The next kiss was at the celebration party. It was Albus who initiated that one, drunk off the punch and high off the kiss from earlier. It was Scorpius’ night, everyone praising him for his spectacular catch, and Albus could barely get to him for the crowd. He’d had to wait until Scorpius made a break for the loos, and then Albus seized his chance, grabbing Scorpius’ wrist and pulling him along just like he always did. He pulled him into an alcove, away from the celebrations, away from the party, away from _ everyone else, _ and pressed Scorpius into the wall behind him and sealed their lips together. 

That one was messy, but Scorpius kissed back. Their bodies pressed together and when Scorpius opened his mouth Albus took the opportunity, licking his way into Scorpius’ mouth, only breaking the kiss when his lungs started to scream at him for air. They'd not even had a moment to speak before they were found and Scorpius was pulled away again, back to being the centre of attention. Albus hadn't been jealous, and he definitely hadn't been worried about the kiss, and the combination of those two things definitely hadn't led to him getting absolutely wankered at the party. 

The third kiss was rushed again, a brush of the lips before they got on the train, and then they'd been surrounded by too many people for Albus to ask what it meant. 

His plan not to think about the kisses has been a failure of epic proportions. Albus wants to know what it means, what _they_ mean, but he hasn’t had the time (and, if he’s being honest with himself, the guts) to ask. Besides, it seems like the sort of thing you shouldn't ask by owl. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

It’s been easier to wait, to definitely not dwell on them and be consumed by the memories of the three kisses, and the anticipation of Scorpius’ first summer holiday visit.

The duelling worry and excitement has been enough to give Albus a stomach ache, and to earn him worried looks from his dad when he didn’t finish his breakfast this morning before Scorpius was due to arrive.

Usually the holidays stretch out, Scorpius-free and painfully so, but this is the first time he asked to have Scorpius come over. He's had friends around before, but they're always people who blur that line of family and friends. Either his cousins or people he met before he even started at Hogwarts, all the kids of his parent’s mates. It’s not the same as having Scorpius, someone who is _ Albus’ _ friend first and foremost. His friend who he’s kissed three times and who he_ can’t stop thinking about kissing. _

He'd kind of thought that maybe this might turn into something else, like they were on the cusp of something, and maybe this summer break might be the thing which sends them both tumbling over. Albus had spent the days counting down until Scorpius' arrival, counting down and daydreaming what might happen until he was so hard it hurts, had to get a hand down his pants just to touch himself and relieve some of the pressure. 

And now Scorpius is here. 

And nothing has happened. 

It feels wrong to be upset over that. Scorpius is his friend first and foremost. But he thought maybe that friendship may be turning into something else, that it may include _ kissing Scorpius _ for a moment. And now it stings, getting so close but being so far. 

At Hogwarts it’s just the two of them, and he thought it would be the same having Scorpius over, only better. Just the two of them with no one and nothing to distract them, but it’s been nothing like that. His family has been all over Scorpius, James has talked to him about Quidditch, and Lily has talked to him about readings that were _ definitely _ past her current levels. Even Dad has been all over Scorp, chatting about everything from Magical Beasts to Scorpius’ plans for after Hogwarts, and Albus definitely hadn’t missed the pointed looks his dad sent him during _ that _ conversation.

All his family seem enamoured with Scorpius, and Albus shouldn’t be upset, _ he shouldn’t be. _ He wants everyone to see how amazing Scorpius is, but usually it feels like something only he sees, like a secret all his own. It’s a good thing that other people are seeing it, everyone should see it—it just feels like now that they finally are, everyone is getting more of his friend than him. 

Scorpius jerks, a noise coming from his mouth that could be a word maybe, although Albus can’t tell what. Scorpius yawns, the noise loud in Albus’ ear, and Albus locks his eyes on the television screen, even if he still watches Scorpius out of the corner of his eye. Scorpius blinks, rubbing his eyes and rolling his shoulders, still looking a little fuzzy as his attention turns to the screen in front of them. The credits are rolling, Albus can barely remember watching it.

“Oh,” Scorpius says, his voice thick with sleep. “Did I sleep through it?”

“Yeah, you did,” Albus says, even if he only just realised himself. He’s not been paying attention to the movie all night, wouldn’t know what happened if it weren’t for the fact he watched Mary Poppins a hundred times as a kid—it used to be Lily’s favourite, and to this day she’s still disappointed there aren’t any flying umbrellas (although Albus is with her on that one—if there’s flying broomsticks, why can’t they have flying umbrellas? It doesn’t seem like it would be that different—but James had always laughed at the idea like it was stupid, and, well, he probably knows best.)

“What happened?”

_ You fell asleep. We were meant to watch a movie together and maybe I was going to yawn and put my arm around you and then maybe you’d lean into me and then maybe we’d kiss, but you fell asleep. _

“Too many things,” Albus says, instead of any of that. He’s annoyed at everything―at his family for stealing his precious Scorpius time, at Scorpius for falling asleep, at _ himself _ for being annoyed. He doesn’t like these feelings; his stomach is twisting and he feels gross inside. He wants it to stop. He can’t seem to find a way to make it stop. “You’ll just have to watch it again. If we have time, of course.”

“Oh,” Scorpius says again, and this time he just sounds a little sad, or confused, maybe. 

Albus’ stomach twists at the thought that it’s probably _ him _causing that. He needs to put some space between them, find a way to get his feelings under control. It’s only been one day, and Scorpius is staying for a week. If he can’t even handle one day, how is he going to manage a whole week?

“Come on,” Albus says, leaning away from Scorpius and then standing up from the couch. “Let’s just go to bed.” 

Scorpius nods, trailing behind Albus as he turns off the television and lights, and they head back to Albus’ room. The spare mattress has been un-shrunk for Scorpius, set up on the bedroom floor. It’s a tight fit, and there’s barely enough room for Albus to stand between the mattress and his bed, but it had been at Albus’ insistence that Scorpius sleep here instead of the spare room. He’d thought it would be fun, more like the Slytherin dorms they usually share. Albus had imagined everything, them chatting away into the night, going on for hours, and then waking up together to do it all again. 

He’d maybe thought about other things too, but he doesn’t want to think of them now, the disappointment turning sour in his stomach.

Now, Albus kind of wishes he’d let Mum set Scorpius up in the spare room. Maybe the space would have done him good, something to let him cool off. He’s never been good at cooling off on his own.

Albus shuffles past the mattress to his own bed, turning his back on Scorpius to strip off his clothes, down to his pants, before getting into his pyjamas. He kicks his clothes towards the corner, taking a bit of his frustration out on them. He usually leaves his clothes around at home, but Scorpius likes things clean and ordered, so Albus had cleaned up just for him, but now Albus takes a small delight in leaving them on the floor, instead of placing them in his laundry bag.

A touch at his shoulder startles him, and he flinches just a little, swinging around and coming face to face with Scorpius.

Scorpius is still standing in his clothes, pyjamas held loosely in the hand hanging by his side. 

“Sorry,” Scorpius says, dropping his other hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you I just…” His words trail off, and Scorpius sounds… uncertain, a little lost maybe. His free hand drops from Albus and falls to his thigh, and Albus watches as the hand grabs at the material, fingers gripping onto the cloth to get a hold. It’s a nervous tic, the way Scorpius always has to hold something when he’s worried. Sometimes that thing is his own hand, sometimes it’s his clothes, sometimes it’s Albus’ hand, and Albus wants that now, wants to reach out and take Scorpius’ hand now, but he’s not sure if he should—not sure he deserves to when he’s sure he’s the source of Scorpius’ worry.

“Are you mad at me?” Scorpius asks, fingers bunching tighter, pinching the cloth beneath them.

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, Albus is watching Scorpius’ hands, and lost in his own thoughts too, and then Albus hears the words, hears their _ meaning. _

“I—” Albus cuts himself off, because he can’t say _ yes_, even if it’s true, but he can’t say _ no, _ when he kind of is—even if he knows it’s not Scorpius’ fault he’s mad _ . _They don’t lie to each other, but Albus doesn’t know how to explain it, doesn’t even know where to start.

“Are you mad because I kissed you?” Scorpius asks, voice just above a whisper. 

This must be what it feels like to do one of the manoeuvres Scorpius always pulls off on his broom. His stomach flips, pulling off a flawless loop-de-loop, and Albus is just left staring, exactly like when Scropius executes the move.

“What?” 

“It’s okay if you are,” Scorpius says, but his voice wobbles, and he sounds close to tears. He’s not looking at Albus anymore, gaze dropped down to his own hands instead, fingers bunched tightly into material. “If you don’t want me here because of it, I can go home.”

“No!” Albus’ voice comes out a little too loud, shocking himself. Scorpius flinches, and Albus winces in sympathy. He’s making a royal fucking mess of everything today. “No. That’s not it at all.”

“But you are mad?” 

“I am,” Albus admits with a sigh. “But not with you. Or maybe a little bit. But more at myself.” Albus sits down on the bed, looks back up at Scorpius still standing, but at least he's looking at Albus now. He’s still gripping his pyjamas in his hand, but the hand on his thigh has unclenched a little. 

“Can you—can you come and sit?” Albus doesn’t want to have this conversation with Scorpius standing there, still looking lost. Scorpius sways, but doesn’t move, so Albus reaches out, hand wrapping gently around his wrist and pulling Scorpius, hoping he’ll come, and breathing a sigh of relief when he does. Scorpius sits beside him, placing his pyjamas in his lap, both hands coming to grip them. He doesn’t pull his hand out of Albus’ grip, and Albus can’t bring himself to let the hold go. It grounds him, makes the flip-flop of his stomach calm a little. He strokes his thumb across the junction of Scorpius’ wrist, something he’s done a hundred times before, it helps him to do it, and he hopes it helps Scorpius too.

“I’m sorry,” Albus says. “For today. I was being a jerk. I was just a bit… jealous, I guess. It felt like everyone was getting time with you except me.” Albus exhales a sigh, tips his head up to the ceiling. _ In for a penny, in for a pound. _ “I’m not used to sharing you,” he admits, voice quieter, like that might somehow make the meaning of his words softer too. 

“Oh,” Scorpius says, and Albus can’t tell from the one word if he’s upset, or mad, and he can’t bring himself to look for fear of what he might see there. He used to have stickers on his ceiling, little lit up Quidditch players that flew around, playing out a game every night as he fell asleep. They stayed up there until his first year, and when he came home for holidays after that first term he pulled them all off, threw them in the bin. He can still see them if he thinks about it hard enough though, remembers the paths they used to take, and in his mind he watches the match play out. 

“You know I’m here for you though, right? I want to get along with your family, but I’m here for you.” 

Albus nods, hoping Scorpius sees it. He can’t quite bring himself to answer. He _ knows _ it, but it’s still hard to _ know _ it. It doesn’t make sense. His brain is a mess, but Scorpius’ words help, the spoken reminder releasing some of the vines that have been trying to choke his heart and his throat. He squeezes Scorpius’ hand again as well, a thank you, the words he can’t quite say.

“So, it’s not about the kiss?” Scorpius asks.

Albus’ heart had finally been starting to calm, but it races fast again. So they’re talking about it now. He knows it needs to happen. He’s not ready for it, he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel ready for it.

“Which kiss?” Albus whispers, but before Scorpius can reply he adds, “It’s not _ not _ about the kisses. I’ve been thinking about them a lot.”

“Me too,” Scorpius says. 

Albus drags his attention away from the invisible Quidditch match on his ceiling, turning to look at Scorpius, meeting his eyes. They’re close, so close, and Albus’ stomach flutters at it. He could easily close the distance between them, but he wants to be sure.

“I want to do it again,” he confesses.

“So do it.” Scorpius’ voice sounds sure, but his smile is shy. It’s enough though.

Albus moves slow, or maybe he moves quick, he’s not really sure. There’s a space between them and then there isn’t, Albus closing the distance. He has to turn his neck to get the angle right, and that feels awkward, as is the fumble of his lips bumping against Scorpius’ before finally Scorpius turns his head too, and the angle catches right.

It’s so much better than their other kisses . It’s more tentative, less rushed and softer for it. Albus leans forward into Scorpius, one hand still on Scorpius’ wrist, the other coming up to Scorpius’ face, brushing at his cheek before sliding down, over his neck and rubbing at the junction of his shoulder, thumb tracing small circles against the skin as their lips press close together. It’s so good, so amazing, but Albus wants more, and he swipes his tongue against Scorpius’ lips, gives a little murmur of thanks when they part for him.

Scorpius’ kiss tastes a bit stale, like morning when you need a drink. There’s a hint of saltiness too, traces of the popcorn they’d eaten hours ago. It’s still the most amazing kiss Albus has had.

This is what kissing is meant to feel like, Albus is sure of it. Albus can feel it from his lips down to his gut, to the flush of arousal that goes right to his cock. He wants to keep kissing Scorpius until their lips go numb and they can’t anymore. 

Albus pulls away, breaking the kiss to catch his breath. He licks at his lips, feeling the moisture and tasting the lingering hint of Scorpius there. Before him, Scorpius lifts his hand to trace over his lips, and Albus bites on his lips to stop himself from groaning.

“I love you,” Albus says, which is nothing new. Albus has said the words before, said them more times than he can remember. But— “I’m in love with you,” he clarifies. 

“I—” Scorpius starts, but whatever he’s meant to say is lost to a yawn, right into Albus’ face. Albus bursts out a laugh, and Scorpius tries to smile around the yawn, the corners of his mouth pulling up even as his mouth is still stretched open wide. Albus can’t help but dart forward to kiss the smile and yawn both from his lips, and then capture a little yelp of surprise as well.

“You don’t have to say it,” Albus says, when they break away again. Albus likes to say the words, and sometimes Scorpius does, sometimes he doesn’t. It used to sting a little when Scorpius didn’t say them back, but he gets it better now. He still feels loved even when Scorpius doesn’t say them. He doesn’t need it to be defined by words, and he’d rather Scorpius only say them when he wants to say them for himself, not out of any sort of obligation. 

“I do though,” Scorpius says. “I do. I’m not sure if I’m…” He trails off, leaves the words unsaid, but the message gets through. Albus is fluent in Scorpius. “I think I could. But not yet.”

It might not be the same, but it’s enough, and Albus’ heart feels like it’s bursting all the same, and his smile feels like it could break his face.

Scorpius yawns again.

“Maybe we could go to sleep?” Albus asks, gaze darting back down to the mattress on the floor, and then to the windows. The blinds are drawn, but there’s still a hint of sunshine coming through. 

“I’m really tired.” 

“You slept through the whole movie!” Albus says with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Scorpius’. He relinquishes his hold on Scorpius’ hand when he stands up, lies down in his own bed, and watches Scorpius as he changes. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before—he’s seen more even, all part of shared dorms, but there’s something different about watching now, something different about feeling _ allowed to look_, and Albus does, not looking away like he usually would. There’s a flush of red on Scorpius’ cheeks, his neck, even his chest that shows that Scorpius knows he’s watching. 

Albus reaches out again when Scorpius steps up to his bed, barely having to reach out for how close the beds are.

“Did you want to?” he asks, eyes flicking down to his own bed. “Maybe we could… share?” he suggests, not wanting to say the words _ sleep together_. He’s not ready for the other meaning of the word. He doesn’t think Scorpius is either. It’s one thing to think of your mate like that but it’s an entirely different thing to think about the possibility. It’s just that the mattress seems so far away now, even if they could reach out and touch each other. But Albus doesn’t want to have to _ reach. _ He doesn’t want to let Scorpius out of his hold. “It’ll be much comfier up here than on that old thing.” Albus nods at the mattress. 

“Well if it’s more comfortable,” Scorpius says, with a smirk. He’s definitely seen straight through Albus, but Albus doesn’t care because Scorpius is sliding into the bed, rolling onto his side to face Albus. 

Albus reaches past him for the light, placing another gentle kiss on Scorpius’ lips as he does so, this one light and barely a brush of the lips, but Albus is going to take every opportunity to do that, now that he knows he can.

“Good night.” Albus whispers the words right into Scorpius’ lips, and seals them with a kiss, just because he can. 

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2019 HP Next Gen Fest.
> 
> You can find the rebloggable tumblr post with an gorgeous header made for me by the amazing Thank you to [silveredglass](https://silveredglass.tumblr.com/) here [here](https://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com/post/189303781140/got-you-stuck-in-my-head-by-icarusinflight-fandom).
> 
> Thank you to [neontinkerbell](https://neontinkerbell.tumblr.com/) who looked at this when it was still a grotty mess and who helped me sort out it's head from it's arse.
> 
> Thank you also to [maskofcognito](https://maskofcognito.tumblr.com/) who is a champion, and a dear friend, and also helped me out immensely by editing this. Maybe one day I'll stop using all those commas, but till that day you've got my back (and honestly, I'd still drag you in anyway).
> 
> Thank you to [shiftylinguini](https://shiftylinguini.tumblr.com/) who listened to be over and over again complain about this fic, and overly dramatic Albus (whom i love), and then despite all of that, still agreed to edit this for me.
> 
> And thank _you_ reader, for reading!
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me life  
Find me at tumblr at [candybarrnerd](http://candybarrnerd.tumblr.com/)


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